Icebound (Boundless Players)

“Do you want the good news or the bad news first, Tremblay?” Dr. Hutch crosses her arms over her scrubs.

Medical staff rush around the on-site facility. I sit up from the navy table with a wince. “Hit me with the bad news. Let’s hear it.”

A sharp pain slices through my shoulder. The acute sensation shoots up my arm and knocks the wind out of me for a second.

I should’ve taken the high-dose meds they offered, but painkillers are an easy slope to slip down for athletes, so it’s a do-or-die situation for me. I took the low-grade ones because I don’t want to be knocked out.

Dr. Hutch grins sympathetically, crinkling her brown eyes. Her bedside manner is top-tier because I can never tell whether it’s real or fake, and she’s been our team doctor for over three years.

She nods to my arm. “I’m sorry, Tremblay, but with an AC joint tear like that you’re out for the rest of the season. No playoffs.”

“But you said it was only a minor one. Grade two, right?”

“Right, but it could still take up to a couple of months to heal.”

Anger rages through me, and I ball my functioning hand into a fist, feeling the tension pulsating through my knuckles. We’ve put in so much work, and now I won’t get to help my team win the Cup. Yeah, I’ve already won two Stanley Cups over my hockey career, but still, I wanted another one.

I’m not going to get pissed at Dr. Hutch for delivering the news, so I match her straightforward tone. “Alright. What’s the good news?”

She hooks her stethoscope around her neck. “The good news is this isn’t career-ending. You can easily rehab an injury like this during the off-season and come back ready to play. You’ll be good as new if you follow your physical therapist’s plan.”

I breathe deeply until the fury dies down, but once it does, there’s a kernel of… something. Disappointment, maybe? I’m not sure. It would’ve been nice to have been forced into retirement due to an injury.

No, that’s not right. I shake my head.

I want to go out on my own terms. I’d never want to be forced into the decision. What the hell am I thinking? I’m here to play. I’ve got fifteen seasons under my belt. What’s one more?

I blow out a breath, nodding slowly. “Alright, well, that’s good to know. Thanks, Dr. Hutch.”

“You’ve been through worse. You’ll be fine. Rest up tonight and get some sleep. Your body needs it. Stay here, and we’ll get you in a brace.”

Dr. Hutch reviews my prescriptions before exiting our team’s on-site medical facility, leaving me in the care of Dane, one of the nurses. I slump back on the table, careful not to nudge my swollen shoulder.

All I want is to sleep next to Nina after being scanned and x-rayed. Poked and prodded. But she’s not going to show up when she’s busy studying for finals. No one but my family and teammates ever does.

This isn’t my first injury by a long shot, so I know what to expect. Rehab is going to be a bad time. The thought of sitting on the bench watching my team win without me makes me want to jet off to Argentina and kick back with one of those umbrella drinks.

My body’s probably somewhere in the forties as far as wear and tear goes. I’ve put in fifteen seasons of pro mileage, and if it weren’t for my teammates, I might be done. Fifteen seasons in the League are catching up to me.

Nina’s words come back to me. Frayed around the edges. That’s exactly how I feel. I’m not broken, but I’m cracking. I trace my good hand on the table, inhaling the smell of disinfectant. There’s a scratch with cotton stuffing popping out, so I push it back inside like my negative thoughts. My team needs me, and I can’t let them down.

Simple as that.

Rumbling footsteps pound down the hallway. For a second, I hope it’s Nina, but they’re too heavy compared to her light steps. She’s spent so much time at my place that I know how her walk sounds, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Tremblay!”

Cruz and Patty charge through the glass doors, still sweaty in their gear. They grind to a halt as they spot me seated on the table, awake and unharmed.

“See?” Patty heaves a loud sigh. “Told you he was fine, Cruz. You didn’t need to piss yourself and scream at the ref. Tremblay’s a professional.”

Cruz sniffs, using his elbow to wipe his red eyes. “I knew the old man would be fine, but that was a rough hit.”

“Aw, you worried about me, kid?” I joke.

Cruz looks down at his feet. “Nah, now that I see you’re alive, I’m leaving.”

“No, you’re not,” I counter, crooking a finger at Cruz. “Come here.”

They stride past the hydrotherapy tubs until they’re right beside me. Both of their expressions are shuttered, so I can’t tell what they’re thinking. Cruz squeezes my good arm, and I pat his hand.

Patty nods to my shoulder, his jaw set. “How bad is it? You out for the rest of the season, or can you play through it?”

One thing I’ve learned after fifteen seasons is that bluntness is always better when it comes to sports injuries. “I’m out, so no playoffs. Looks like I’ll be watching you win the Cup from the bench.”

Cruz slams his fist against the treatment table. “That dirty fucker! Ninety shouldn’t have been crowding the net. I knew it was getting out of control. I can’t believe he slashed you, and all he got was a two-minute minor.”

“Yeah, but we know he plays dirty.” I attempt a shrug, but it morphs into a grimace when a sharp pain zips through my shoulder.

Patty grips my good arm. “I’m pissed right now too, but you’ll renew your contract, and we’ll go for the Cup again with you by our side. This isn’t the end.”

“Hell yeah, we will.” Cruz widens his stance with determination. “You’ll rehab during the off-season. No more golfing Pebble Beach, and then you’ll be good as new. This isn’t the fucking minors. We need you on the ice.”

The pressure of their words settles on my shoulders, dragging me down. Everyone needs something from me. Camille needs me to sign the sponsorship contract. My mom needs me to call her back. Coach needs me to perform. My teammates need me to block.

The only person who doesn’t need anything from me is Nina, and that has me tempted to give her everything.

But I chose this career. No, I worked my ass off to get here. Hockey’s in my blood, but the performance expectations for the NHL are insane. We’re held to the highest standards because we’re the best players in the world.

It’s exhausting but addicting.

It would be nice to skate once just for the hell of it, though. I can’t remember the last time I skated for fun. I think it might’ve been on that frozen pond when I was a kid, the icy wind turning my face red.

“Get off me! Let me through,” a familiar voice shouts. “I need to see him!”

I jerk up from the medical table at Nina’s panicked shouting, and damn if her concern isn’t the first thing to make me smile all day.

Cruz flicks his eyes up. “By the way, I called Phil to let her know you’re fine, but she’s freaking the fuck out, so have fun with that.”

I smack the back of his head with my good hand. “I don’t care if she’s freaking out as long as I get to be the one to calm her down.”

“Ow.” He rubs his sweat-soaked hair. “You’ve got it so bad for her.”

“Yeah, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“What are you going to do when she leaves?” Patty asks.

“Hell if I know.” My chest constricts. I can’t talk about that. I can’t even think about it.

Nina sprints through the glass doors with her glasses lopsided and blonde hair a mess. She’s wearing my jersey, and the sight of her instantly loosens the knot in my chest. Her eyes meet mine, and she stops. I think the planet stops spinning.

She scans my body in a clinical way like she’s checking for injuries, but I don’t want her to worry, so I hold out my good arm. “Come here. I’m fine. Just stay on my left side.”

Her hand flies to her mouth, eyes creasing with concern. “Are you sure? I don’t want to hurt you.”

“The only way you’re going to hurt me is by not being in my arms right now.”

“Fucking lame,” Cruz coughs under his breath.

Patty smacks his face.

“Thanks for that,” I say.

“Anytime.”

A sob breaks from Nina’s mouth, and then she’s running through the medical facility, barreling right between Patty and Cruz until she’s in my arms.

She buries her head in the crook of my neck, and I pull her into my chest. I probably smell disgusting after the game since I never showered, but she doesn’t seem to mind, and now I’ve got the whole world in my arms.

“Where’s my hug, Phil?” Cruz says. “Did you even notice I was in the room?”

“No, I didn’t,” she mutters into my neck.

Cruz snorts. Patty tugs him by his jersey, ushering him out of the medical facility. “Come on. Let’s give these two some privacy. We’ll be back in a few.”

They walk out the sliding glass doors, leaving me alone with Nina, which is exactly what I want. Leaning back, she places her warm hands on my cheeks and kisses every inch of my face.

“I saw what happened on TV, but I was so worried,” she says. “Cruz got me back here, but you’re okay? Right? You’re fine?”

I kiss her lips. “Don’t worry about me. I’m fine. It’s just a shoulder sprain. Nothing rehab won’t fix.”

She kisses me harder, like she doesn’t want to stop. “Is that what they said? All you have to do is rehab, and you’ll be back on the ice?”

“Yeah, it’s my dominant arm, so I’ll be out for a few months, but then I’ll be back next season. Ready to play.”

Her eyes narrow on my rigid expression. “Why are you smiling all stiff like that? You don’t sound happy. Isn’t this good news? You’re not out for good, right? You can go for the Cup again next year?”

I want to grin at the way she shortened the Stanley Cup like we all do, but I can’t get my lips to move. “No, you’re right. I hate that I’m being taken out of the playoffs, but it could’ve been a lot worse, so I guess it’s a good thing.”

“You sound like you’re convincing yourself.” Her eyes scan my face, catching on the little cuts I know are there. She pulls me closer, and I can’t help but lean into her chest as she cradles my head, stroking my hair. The pain ebbs. I could fall asleep in her arms.

“You don’t have to pretend with me, Rhode. I want you to be real. No bullshit.”

I sigh into the crook of her neck and press a quick, grateful kiss to the skin below her ear. “I’m so tired. Everything hurts, but I can’t retire. I can’t let my team down, and it needs to be on my terms. There are some players that go well into their forties. Gretzky didn’t retire until thirty-eight.”

She gives me a flat look, pulling back. “He was a center. You’re a goalie. That’s a lot harder on your body, Rhode. You’ve got pucks flying at you and all that extra gear, and you’re on the ice for the entire game.”

My brows soar, and I grin a bit. My girl’s picked up on a few things. “Alright, Brodeur played twenty-two seasons before he retired.”

“Nice try.” She taps my nose. “He’d been demoted to the Blues number three goalie. Do you really want to go out of the League as a backup? Because my guess is you don’t. If you play into your forties, that’s what will happen.”

Well, damn.

All that research is paying off. She knows her shit. But if I retire, I’ll be standing at the starting line of a journey to find myself, and that’s terrifying. I let out a gruff laugh at the thought.

It’s hard to believe Nina and I are in the same place in life, but there’s over a decade between us.

I loop my fingers through hers. “You’re right, but I can’t quit, Nina. I’ll rehab, and I’ll be back next season because my team needs me. I don’t let people down.”

Decision made.

She bites her bottom lip. I might be in pain, but it doesn’t stop me from wanting to dig my teeth into her soft skin. “Have you tried talking to Micah or Wyatt about this? I’m sure they’d understand.”

“No, I can’t. They wouldn’t get it. They’re at the beginning of their hockey career. The only person I can be honest with is you because you don’t care about hockey.”

“I think I might care a little now.”

I tug a strand of her hair. “Just a little?”

“Okay, a lot.” She kisses my cheek. “I might’ve become your biggest fan somehow over these past four months.”

Talking to her feels like taking off fifty pounds of extra gear. Nina listens to me rant about hockey. Goes to my games even though she doesn’t like crowds. Researches groin stretches.

Nina Alstyne’s climbing higher and higher on the list of most important people in my life. I should make this girl a bucket of cross-stitches, but that still wouldn’t be enough.

She steps back, studying my face. Her mouth opens and closes a few times, but she settles on a small grin that doesn’t reach her hazel eyes. “That’s what you’ll do. You’ll rehab and come back. They need you, and you’ll be there for them next season.”

I’m not sure what I expected her to say, so I don’t know why I feel crushed by that response. I should’ve known my girl doesn’t need me. Nina’s strong all on her own. She’s never once asked for more, and always takes my dreams into consideration.

She climbs onto the medical table and nuzzles into my chest. I wrap my good arm around her pulling her as close as possible to me, and we stay in this peaceful bubble as we watch medical staff run around.

I miss this girl even when she’s in my arms.

Nina stays until they put my shoulder in a brace, order my prescriptions, and give me the all clear to leave. She drives me back to my place and stops at the store to get some ice packs, but she’s quieter than normal on the ride home, which has me shifting in my seat.

We walk through my apartment door, and Chicken nuzzles her calves this time. She puts her shoes by my coat rack, like always. I drop my bag next to them, like always.

I settle onto my leather couch. All of this feels so normal, so comfortable, that it takes me a minute to realize Nina hasn’t said a word since we left the medical facility.

I pat the couch. “Come lay down with me. I’m cold, and I want you to warm me up.”

She leans back against the marble counter, putting more distance between us. “I can’t stay. I should probably go. I have to prep for my speech, and you should sleep.”

“How’s that coming, by the way?” I ask to keep her talking. “Still nervous?”

“Of course. The anxiety never goes away.”

“We can practice some more if you stay tonight.”

She looks down at her feet. “I can’t, Rhode. I’ve got an early class in the morning.”

My head tilts. She never fights me about staying over, and I know for a fact she doesn’t have class because I know her schedule. “I thought you didn’t have class on Fridays. I’ve missed you, and we barely get any time together. Just stay. Please?”

Her hazels look shinier than normal as she scans my face in the same way I watch an opponent trying to figure out their next move. My heart starts racing like it knows something my brain doesn’t.

“I’m so, so glad you’re okay, Rhode. You have no idea, but…” She sucks in a big breath like she’s about to deliver a punch. “Okay, I’m just going to say it. I can’t do this anymore. It’s too much.”

I sit up. “Do what? Stay here? Is it because Chicken sheds all the time? I know it’s annoying as shit, but I’ll vacuum.”

She snorts, but it sounds like a sniff. “Really? You’ll vacuum? Not your cleaning guy? You don’t even know where your vacuum is.”

“I know where my vacuum is. It’s…” Where do I keep my vacuum? Wait, why the fuck am I thinking about a vacuum right now? “Never mind. Doesn’t matter. What are you talking about?”

I think she tries to smile, but it looks like she ate something that tastes bad. “This. Us. It’s becoming too much for me, and seeing you hurt on the ice…” Her voice shakes. “I was so worried, and it really scared me. It just made me realize that I need to go before things get too deep. I’m leaving for Argentina, and you need to focus on rehab, so I don’t want to hold you back. Your team needs you to get better.”

She might as well slam me into the boards. That’d be less painful. “So, you’re stopping this?”

“Yes.” She swallows thickly. “You should focus on rehab, and I need to finish school and get ready for my fellowship. I know you want a family and marriage and all that, but I’m just not there yet. I’d have to give up everything to be with you, and I’m not in a place to do that for someone.”

My heartbeat quickens, pounding through my bloodstream. The feeling is so overwhelming that I forget about the throbbing in my shoulder. I’m trying to understand what she’s saying, but it’s not making sense.

“But you’ve got a drawer at my place?”

That was a dumbass response.

“It’s just a couple of T-shirts. You can keep them.”

I sit up, grasping for anything. She can’t leave. “What about the charity auction? Do you still want me to go with you? We can go as friends.”

I flinch. There’s no way those words came out of my mouth. I can’t be her goddamn friend after knowing what she tastes like. What it feels like to be inside her. What makes her smile and laugh.

She shakes her head. “No, I can’t be platonic with you. We both knew this was never going to last.”

“Don’t do this,” I beg. “Don’t end this earlier than it needs to. What’s the point? You’re leaving anyway, and I want to spend every moment I can with you.”

“I know, but I need to try and protect myself, and I need you to respect that. You’re amazing, Rhode, but this is too hard for me.” She swipes at the tears under her eyes. “Focus on rehab. I need you to get better, so I can watch you win the Cup next year.”

She’s right. I know she is, but it feels like I’ve been bodychecked. I can’t even fight for her because what would I be fighting for?

Nothing.

I’d have to ask her to give up her dreams in exchange for mine, and like hell am I going to be the man who stops her from dreaming.

The best thing about dreams is that no one can control them, and I want hers to run wild. I can’t form a single sentence because I’m afraid if I speak, I’ll beg her to stay. I nod instead, swallowing around the burning in my throat.

She waits for me to say something, but when I don’t, she walks forward, hesitant, and I go still when she lightly presses her mouth to mine in the quickest peck, but something detonates inside me.

It takes everything in me not to open my mouth, slide my tongue between her lips, and demand more like a greedy bastard.

“Goodbye, Rhode,” she whispers against my lips. “In another life, I think you would’ve been my forever.”

Yeah, but I want her in this life.

And fuck, maybe it’s on me to figure out how to make that happen.

She walks out without looking back. I watch my apartment door close, and I can’t help but feel like this girl stole something from me that I’ll never find again.